Thursday, May 19, 2016

Loss

This photo has been heavily filtered for your viewing pleasure.
And I just colored my hair, so all of my grays are covered for a full 24 hours.

I feel the loss. Mostly when I'm in the shower mid conditioner ineptly squatting down shaving my legs contemplating the wading pool full of water at my feet encroaching on my ankles. Because now that I'm in my mid-forties I have more hair clogging my shower drain than I have on my head. Just when I thought I loved my forties, with this new found confidence to be the person I truly am. Although I barely recognize myself anymore, I blame my declining post forty vision. And there's nothing to see here anyway but weight gain, sun damage, scowl lines and gray hairs.

Oh, and now slowly going bald.

When I was little my mom made me keep my hair short. She was especially fond of the pixie cut. Which, if you're unfamiliar, is basically what they call it when a girl has a boy's haircut. I'd beg her to let me grow my hair out like the Bionic Woman, the only feminist with fantastic hair I knew back then. Instead she let me experiment with the frumpy haircuts of the day like the Dorothy Hamill cut. Which is basically a pixie cut with 3 months of growth. So...bonus, I didn't even really need anyone to cut my hair at all. Which might explain why I'm extremely hair challenged, because I never really had much to work with growing up. Which was a huge setback for my hair growth, if you know what I mean.

Of course, it got worse before it got better.

When I was in high school just outside of Buffalo, I used to walk to school with wet hair. So, in the winter my short feathered hair froze and was white by the time I got to school. Making me look like one of the Golden Girls. (And I'm sure I looked more Dorothy than Blanche.) In my senior year, I grew the back out into a mullet. Blame the 80's. In college I shaved the sides off to create a super mullet. Blame my poor taste. Before I finally grew it out, which took the rest of college. And by my senior year I had the big Aussie Sprunch sprayed New Jersey mall hair of my dreams. In the twilight of the trend. Then I moved to Miami cut it into a bob, dyed it black and straightened it. Which was both ridiculously unflattering and futile for curly hair in ridiculously humid climate. What can I say? Those were the Janine Garafallo years. (Although, I actually looked more like Rumer Willis.) My longest hairstyle, was when I wore it up for over a decade because I simply didn't know what to do with it. Then there was that time I shaved it off entirely for charity. Which did break up the decade long up-do. So, there's that.

Basically, I've had forty years of atrocious hair.

Then, last year I ran into someone who had virtually the same kind of hair as mine. Really thin and fine with lose curls. And she told me step by step how to take care of my hair like I was in a remedial beauty school class. Comb it in the shower with conditioner on. Gently pat dry with a soft towel. Use mousse. Blow dry with a diffuser. (The last step I translated into air dry because I'm lazy and short on patience.) That was it. It was the owner's manual I never had. This is when I started wearing my hair down and curly as nature intended. In a nice shade of auburn nature didn't provide, but Natural Instincts in a box did. It only took me 45 long years to figure out what to do with my hair.

Now my good hair years are being cut short.

This is some cruel joke right? I'm blaming it all on my mom, because I inherited her hair. Unless I blame perimenopause. Or Donald Trump. He just seems like a good scapegoat for everything. Anyway, I bought a natural hair loss shampoo and conditioner to take matters into my own two lather laden hands. Except I forgot to take a photo of how much hair was left in my comb before I started using the shampoo to compare with how much is left in the comb now. How am I going to know if it's working or not? I guess I'll know if I have to start doing the comb over like Trump.

5 comments:

My poor girl. It is the beginning of the end. You are now in the old age of youth, which flips to the youth of old age at fifty, and then there's the autumn of your life, which begins at 60, where, like the trees, things begin to change color, droop, and fall off, and I'm not talking hair here. I'm talking vital organs, lips, eyes, basically your entire skin uniform no longer fits. So...you are as young and beautiful as you will ever be, and you are a beauty, so enjoy your looks my hair challenged friend, and know that I'm fifteen years ahead of you, looking down the barrel of my mortality. LOL!

Feeling your pain on this one, sister. I've traveled much the same road as you regarding bad haircuts, spectacular lack of hair know-how, curls with their own agenda. Ugh! And now creeping hair loss. I marvel daily over the fact that I'm not actually bald considering the amount of hair I shed in shampooing. I've sort of given up at this point, and I'm very envious of your new-found hair competence. If only bald were fashionable for women in their 50s I'd be all over it. But then I'd be worried about having a weird shaped skull. I guess I'll keep my hair and try calling for a truce. Ha!

@Leah-Skin as a uniform. I love the way you phrase things Leah!@Roberta- We have similar hair you and me. And I think yours looks fantastic!@Vapid-Thank you so much!!! And I'm going to look at the reviews for that right now!

yes blame Donald! The super Mullet though, seriously what were you thinking? haha! Love it! On a serious note, I worry about this, I have fin hair naturally, but my mums is getting so thin and she has lost all the volume, is this what I have to look forward to???? NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

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About me

I'm Marie, author of the book, Rock the Kasbah: A Memoir of Misadventure. Not to be confused with the movie or Zooey Deschanel. I'm a forty-something writer, dancer, world traveler, wife and mother of four who moved back to Colorado from living abroad in Morocco a few years ago. Oh and did I mention I have some serious social anxiety? And that I screw things up a lot? Like a whole lot.